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Poetry
The rescue operation
She leaned forward at a time,
Whispered something in my ear;
Time passed...
Never changed a minute,
Hopeful eyes directed to the green light;
Just to say "Yes, You can do it".
There was a silence,
But could hear short breaths;
Should I take the risk of this?
Didn't get any answer...
The sound of the tools, clanging in the theatre;
The Hippocratic Oath echoed in my ears.
"We are ready sir" Not said,
But a sign of a nodding;
The shock must have been great,
But his face remained inexpressive....
We led our great mission;
Through the progress of inexorable science.
Finally a sign of the successful effort,
"The heart is working"
Took a long breath and;
With it a load of a heavy burden went out,
Under deep hypnosis...
I could recollect the traumatic events.
So many of our dreams, at first seem impossible;
But when we summon the will,
They will soon become true,
Never break the promises in your life
B'coz when they break, they never make a noise
But pains a lot.
A C D Weerasinghe
What does solitude do?
Now that the sun is gone the city is alight.
With a thousand yellow lights and stretches,
Like life itself. Endlessly, desolately
With darkness flowing like silk.
Through each tiny crack.
When I sit there I wonder along.
How many lives are there inside those nameless windows
This alone. Tonight. Lonely in spirit and mind.
Looking out. When the day is lulled to sleep.
Looking out for that something they cannot see.
Reflecting on the madness that is called Life
In popular culture. The race, the casualties
Looking at the moon bleeding on the winter-dead trees.
The grassless street silver with the blood of the sky.
Thinking of old verses. Of old poets.
Wondering how many stood like this.
How many will do. And feel this solitude.
What will solitude do to them.
When life and love seem too far away
Will they think these thoughts are wisdom? Or is it madness?
Those lonely ones. How many hearts are broken tonight
Do they think? Do they see this window?
Does the solitude tell them?
That Life is life do they still yearn for love. Knowing it is not?
Does it make them look at dark windows?
What does solitude do to them?
What does it do to you?
Does it take your life's breath? or does it give?
Adi Weerasinghe
That social stigma
"As a differently abled,
I feel so sad, I feel so sad,
They call me mad,
Am I that Bad?
Is it my fault, is it my fault,
That fate was so unkind,
It isolated me and left me high and dry,
In the prime of my life?
Some may laugh, like a Hyaena,
Through ignorance and folly.
Without education or consideration,
What do they know, what do they know?
Illness is no respector of persons
It can strike like a serpent, anybody,
All of a sudden,
Without warning!
The greatest of men fall ill in life.
As did, Albert Einstein and Abraham Lincoln!
Is it not sin, Is it not sin,
To laugh at people, when they fall ill?
Don't they realize, Don't they realize,
It is only, another type of illness,
Like for instance, a cough and cold,
Or influenza of old?
Why then stigmatize, only certain forms of
Human illness?
Is it justifiable and is it not sin?
Faith, Hope, Love and Compassion, are the keys
To life eternal, Lord Jesus preached long ago,
For us to follow"
Broken hearted
A word of guidance to young medical graduates
Hippocrates's path that you all tread,
Not just to earn your butter and bread,
To rid the pain of others instead,
A deed that crowns, your life ahead.
A life may hang in balance in your hand,
To save it you have no magic wand,
Tie up the snapping cord you and your band,
Joy divine to you is near at hand.
Healing gives you a satisfied feeling,
Saving human life is a noble calling;
Yours is not the role of Mammon-worshiping,
It's just the mission of healing.
Healers are welcome wherever they go,
People love and respect them more,
Sustain this status without letting it go,
Dignity and decorum always to the fore.
Your role in life is more a calling,
To help those who are in pain and suffering,
Give your patients a sympathetic hearing,
Open out your heart, to those who are mourning.
Patients always look for your affection,
Kindness, attention, love and compassion,
Parental love is their expectation,
Blessings of the healed are your consolation.
Talk to them with respect and feeling,
Have a good rapport right from the beginning,
Sick are the VIPs patiently waiting,
For your God given touch of healing.
Yours is a career professional,
Always be neat and tidy, as well as rational,
Keep up to the standards international,
Do not take any criticism personal.
Bestow compassion to all the patients,
What you like others do unto you, do unto your patients,
What need to know by the patients,
Tell them with no bad temper with patience.
A kind word to those writhing in suffering,
Is helpful more than a drug soothing,
Touch the sick, who look appealing,
Help them with relief for their pains agonizing.
People look for happiness more than wealth,
What happiness in the world than their health,
Many people are aware about disease and health,
Fear prompts them to question more during ill health.
While caring the sick and ailing persons,
You come to know details of every person,
Except for medical or other special reasons,
Don't divulge this confidential information.
The cost of high-tech medical care would be colossal,
When funds are limited quality suffers on close perusal,
With the precious resources at your disposal,
Provide the best possible within limits of your proposal.
Remove the sad feelings from your patient's face
"Heal the world; make it a better place,
For you and for me, and the entire human race,"
You could really enjoy the spiritual solace.
Prevention is better than cure they say,
Basic principles will save the day,
Spot infectious diseases without delay,
It will keep all epidemics at bay.
Dear young colleagues most decent,
We know, you are skilled and competent,
What is it that is most important?
It is your attitude and next commitment.
S Terrence G R De Silva
An encounter
Wondering how and when
You made such a fine touch
On my senses
I struggle to realize
The miraculous nature
Of loving feelings
May be the acquaintance
Grown in the journey of sansara
Brought you to my presence
Even at the eleventh hour
Of this life
You exist with me, making me to feel
Your fragrance, your breath
And even the rhythm of your heart.
Tell me, my love.
Shouldn't I weep on your shoulder?
When civilization
Makes our distance immeasurable
I hail my destiny
For making this golden encounter
I blame my destiny
For utter delay and bitter-sweet form
De Vi Gallage
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